


Bad Dreams

by BeelsBae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I am too soft for Beel, Kissing, Loneliness, Non-Penetrative Sex, Romanticized sex as always, Vaginal Fingering, When did I get so dramatic, thigh job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26971756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeelsBae/pseuds/BeelsBae
Summary: SPOILER: Reference to Ch. 4-19 and spoiler for 6-C.While sleeping in Beel’s room after the custard incident, you discover that the demon is not only plagued by nightmares, he’s lonely, too, just like you. You and Beel find comfort in one another and explore new, more intimate feelings.(Some fantastic works have already covered this bonus chapter, lol, and I love them! But I simp Beel all day, every day, so it was inevitable. Also I fudged the timeline a little.)
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 267





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Ah yes, some Beel angst and fluff to soothe the soul
> 
> Also me: But what if we… make it spicy
> 
> Me: Why are you like this

_It’s so easy to forget that he’s a demon when he’s sleeping like this_ , you think, watching Beel’s shoulders gently rise and fall in time to his slow breathing. His head rests on the pillow next to yours, his face lax with sleep, lips barely parted. It’s his bed—the one you’ve been sleeping in since the destruction of the wall separating your room and the kitchen—and the two of you are curled up, facing one another. Beel’s hands cradle one of yours between them, his grip loose in his sleep. _Right now, he looks more like an angel than a demon_ , you think. 

But you know better than to think that Beel dreams of heaven, or anything so pure and pleasant. On your second night staying in his room, you learned that Beel has nightmares. Vivid ones. Dark, bloody, horrible nightmares that leave him crying and shaking in his sleep. The first time it happened, you awoke in confusion, unsure of where the noise was coming from. You found Beel curled up on his brother’s bed across the room, muffling his tears with a pillow. It had frightened you, shaken you, to see him looking so broken. 

It happened the next night, too. 

And Beel barely slept the night after that. 

The following night, Beel had explained that he sometimes has these dreams, these nightmares, and that they’ve gotten worse since Belphegor left for the human world. He had sat on the edge of your—well, _his—_ bed when he said that. He had seemed almost shy, but not embarrassed as he talked, glancing over to Belphegor’s bed every so often. 

Beel hadn’t cried then, but he had asked you for a favor: “Would it be okay if I held your hand, MC? For a little bit. Until I fall asleep.” The request was simple, even endearing, but behind the fragile innocence of his words was an exhaustion that you could only recognize because you’d been watching it grow the last couple nights. His shoulders were slumped, his bright eyes dull, and even his stomach seemed less interested in food, grumbling more quietly. Of course, you’d granted Beel’s request. As frightened as you may have been a week earlier when faced with his explosive fury over a cup of custard, seeing him so vulnerable pulled on your heartstrings in a way you wouldn't have thought possible for a demon. 

_But maybe for an angel_ , you think, bringing yourself back to the present. Beel’s spent each night since sleeping beside you, just holding your hand, and it seems to have worked—no nightmares yet this week. 

As you study the way Beel’s lashes rest against his cheeks as he sleeps, you see his brow start to wrinkle, a frown twitching at his lips. _Something’s wrong_ , you worry. His breathing is off, and his lip curls back, revealing his pointed canines. A noise not quite like a growl catches in the demon’s throat. _He’s having a nightmare!_

“Shhhhh,” You murmur soothingly, squeezing his hand and reaching with your other to smooth the creases in his brow, brushing his hair back from his forehead. It’s… so soft, you realize, letting your fingers thread through his bangs again. Beel’s whimper draws your attention back to the issue at hand, and you feel your heart rate increase in mild panic; his face is contorted with hurt, or fear, or maybe both. 

“Beel!” You call out softly, trying to wake him without startling him. “Beel, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Beel-”

The growl in his chest erupts, and Beel’s eyes snap open, bright and burning, as he awakes violently, leaping up, instantly shifting into his demon form. You can’t help but scream as his wings buzz to life, shredding his shirt, and he roars, teeth bared, fingers extended like claws as he half crouches, half hovers over the bed, ready to attack or defend. You scramble to a sitting position, pressing your back against the headboard as you put space between you and the demon, who, for all you know, is still half asleep and could lash out at you at any moment. There’s nothing angelic about him. Not like this. 

Beel faces away from you, and your heart pounds as you try to make yourself small in the bed, watching the iridescent reflection of the low lamplight on his buzzing wings. You want to say something, to remind him that you’re here, but you’re afraid that the attention you receive might be unwelcome, and the words stick in your throat, dry and empty. 

As you watch, Beel slowly sinks back to the bed on his hands and knees. His wings fold against his back as his head drops between his shoulders, all the fight gone out of him. He seems to be breathing heavily still, so you say nothing until his horns and wings begin to slowly retract. He sinks down, curling up, nearly silent but for his quick, uneven breaths that tell you he’s crying. 

“Beel…” You bite your lip nervously. _Stop being scared_ , you tell yourself, _It’s Beel, and he needs you._ Carefully, heart pounding, you crawl towards Beel, extending one hand and resting it lightly on his shoulder.

Beel starts at your touch, looking up at you in surprise, face damp with tears. Maybe he did forget you were here, after all. Slowly, exhaustedly, he sits back and turns to face you fully, wiping the silent tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. 

“Ah, MC. I’m sorry you had to see that.” Beel murmurs quietly, embarrassed. “That must’ve frightened you.”

“Oh, Beel, no—I mean, yeah, it was kinda scary—but, are you okay?” You ask, searching his eyes. “Was it… another nightmare?”

Beel nods, and you notice that he hasn’t moved your hand away from his bare shoulder. It suddenly feels strange there, a little too personal, maybe, since he’s missing a shirt. But your touch seems to comfort him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him softly. 

“No.” 

It’s a short answer, but you’ve been learning that Beel’s occasional reticence shouldn’t be mistaken for aloofness; it’s just how he communicates. 

“What can I do?” You ask, finally pulling your hand back. 

Beel’s eyes seem to follow your hand briefly, and then he glances away, beyond you. “You don’t have to do anything.” He says. “I think I’ll go to the kitchen for a while. You need to get some rest. I’ll come back when I’m ready to sleep.”

You nod at him, but you’re not sure Beel even sees you, his eyes distant, staring down somewhere to the floor over the edge of the bed. He starts to get up, and you wish you knew what you could say that would help. _He still looks so tired_ , you think.

“Beel, I’m here for you. Okay?” 

“Thanks, MC.” Beel says, pushing to his feet. “I’ll bring you back something to eat in case you get hungry later.” 

You watch Beel leave, feeling like you’ve somehow failed him. It’s not like you can magically make all his nightmares disappear, but things have gone so well the past couple nights that you were starting to think you were helping. You sigh, getting back into bed. You can’t change what happened to hurt him so badly, and you can’t heal his scars; all you can do is be there for him when he asks and try not to get on the wrong side of those fangs, you think. Closing your eyes and turning over, you gather up the blankets around you and determine to get your own rest. You fall asleep with your nose pressed to the sheets. They smell like Beel.

***

A weighty dip in the mattress signals Beel’s presence, and you crack open an eye to see the shadowy shape of him settling in beside you under the blankets. _Good_ , you think. _Maybe he can still get some rest tonight_. You’re about to drift off to sleep again when you see Beel reach for you with one hand, then drop it softly to the mattress. Sleepily, you blink your eyes open more fully. “Beel?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

His face comes into better focus as you blink a few more times, his soft eyes glowing in the darkness. “It’s okay, Beel.” You stifle a yawn. “Did you find something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, I’m glad.” You murmur quietly, giving him a sleepy smile. “Do you feel any better?”

“A little.” 

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You ask, sliding your open palm between the two of you. 

“Thanks.” Beel’s large hand comes to meet yours in the middle. 

“Don’t feel bad about waking me up, okay?” You say, watching his eyes slide away from your face to the place where your hands meet. “It’s not your fault you have bad dreams.”

“Thanks, MC.”

You tug at his hand until he looks up, and you smile, trying to communicate how happy you are to provide this small comfort. “I like this too, you know.” 

“Like what?” Beel asks, his fingers curling into yours almost absentmindedly. 

“Holding your hand.” You explain, squeezing his fingers gently. “It’s comforting to me, too. I… don’t feel as alone.” You try to smile again. 

“Alone?” Beel asks, looking concerned as he subconsciously moves a little closer to you, until his knees are knocking against yours. 

“I didn’t know anyone when I came here, you know? I was just… suddenly in a world I never knew existed. It’s been lonely.” You admit, eyes dropping to where Beel’s fingers are laced with yours. His grip tightens, and you wonder if he’s thinking about his twin, who is also off on his own in a strange realm. “Sorry, I’m not trying to complain.” You say quietly. “It’s actually pretty awesome to learn all this stuff about your world and to get to know you and your brothers.” You ramble a bit, trying to sidestep anything that’ll upset Beel. “But it’s nice, you know, to be here with you, like this. It’s comforting.”

“I understand.” Beel says, and you look up at his serious face, resting next to you on his pillow. “I’m lonely too, sometimes. Aside from Asmo, my brothers aren’t very affectionate. Belphie would always give me a hug whenever I needed one.” He shifts a little, and his legs brush up against yours. “I miss that.” 

You look into Beel’s warm eyes, wondering if he realizes how close the two of you are right now. Even though he’s wearing sweatpants, you can feel his heat on your bare legs through the fabric. His warmth is comforting, you think, and maybe... You drop your eyes from his face, feeling yourself flush. “Er, Beel—you didn’t put on a new shirt.” 

“Oh.” Beel says, blinking as if he’s just become aware that his sudden transformation had left his undershirt in tatters, spread across the room. “I guess I forgot. Do you want me to go get one?” 

“Um, no, that’s okay. I mean, it’s fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” You assure him awkwardly. But now you can’t help but think about how warm his chest must be, if even his legs give off heat. 

Beel settles into the mattress, content to leave things as they are; he’ll worry about finding a shirt in the morning soon enough. Besides, the flush on your cheeks is cute, he thinks. But are you really lonely? Worry creases his brow. 

“Does Mammon give you hugs sometimes?” 

You look up at Beel in surprise. “Mammon?” 

“He’s always with you.” Beel says thoughtfully. “And he likes you, even if he won’t say so. I thought maybe he could hug you, if you need it sometimes.” 

You chuckle. “You know, I think maybe he would.” You entertain the idea of asking Mammon for a hug, wondering just how red his face would get before he could actually bring himself to do it. “Only if no one was looking, though. But I haven’t asked.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m not sure,” You reply, tapping your fingers lightly against the back of Beel’s hand. “I guess I didn’t realize that I was this lonely until…” Your voice fades, and you blush again. Just how lonely have you been? 

“Um, Beel?”

“Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if… I wanted to hug you instead?” 

Beel’s eyes widen a little in surprise. He hadn’t expected you to ask him that, but he’s definitely not going to say no. “I’d like that.” He says with a small smile, letting go of your hand and opening his arms for you. 

You scooch in closer, and Beel’s arms envelope you like a heated blanket. Your face is in his chest, and you press your nose to him, amazed by the warmth that radiates in such close proximity. 

A rumbling chuckle draws your attention up to Beel’s face. “Your nose is cold.” Beel says, looking down at you with an amused smile.

“Oh! Sorry. My nose is always cold.” You say, bringing a hand up self-consciously to assess its temperature.

“Here.” Beel says, pushing your face against him into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Better?” 

Your heart thumps loudly at the sudden closeness. _He’s so cozy_. “Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur against his skin. 

Beel feels the tickle of your lips and draws you closer in his arms. Holding hands was nice, but this… you’re so soft, so small compared to him. You even smell good, and your breath on his neck is pleasant. It feels good to have you this close. Feels right.

You feel Beel’s hand sink to your lower back as he draws you into him, pulling you tight until your legs become entangled. You close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the feeling of being held so closely. His bare chest _is_ warm against you, even through your night shirt. 

You soak in Beel’s heat as you lay wrapped up in him beneath the blankets. He’s the one with the nightmares, but somehow, he’s comforting you instead. The thought makes you feel guilty, and you hope that Beel is finding this as pleasant as you are. You tuck your arm under his to wrap around his torso and feel him respond with a low sound, almost like a purr. It makes you smile, and you let your fingers stroke his back lightly, earning another pleased rumble. 

“This is okay?” You ask Beel. 

“It feels nice.” 

“Good.” You whisper, reassured that you’re not the only one comforted by your new closeness. 

Truthfully, everything about this feels nice, Beel thinks. Holding you is calming, but also something... more. It makes his stomach flutter when you sigh against his skin, when your leg wedges more tightly between his. And something about the way your body is wrapped up in his makes his face warm, like he’s embarrassed, only he isn’t. It’s just... _really nice_ , Beel thinks as your hand continues to caress his back gently. 

You nuzzle your face into Beel’s neck, wondering for a moment if it’s just the loneliness—his or yours—that’s making it so easy to come together like this. But, you really haven’t asked Mammon or anyone else for a hug. You haven’t held hands with them, either. But with Beel it’s… different. He’s so warm, and so close, and with him, like this, you don’t feel so lonely anymore. You sigh quietly. You’re still sleepy, and Beel’s warmth is magnifying that feeling, but underneath that, your heart is beating faster than usual. Your body doesn’t want sleep, it just wants more of _this._ Of Beel around you, embracing you, of his contented murmurs and small movements that suggest he also wants more, wants you closer. His reactions to your touch are making you hopeful that, in some way, he feels the same. 

_Maybe it’s just the loneliness_ , Beel tells himself. Maybe you wouldn’t normally want to be held by him, or to even be this close to someone so frightening. He could’ve hurt you earlier, but you showed nothing but concern for him. Is that just loneliness, too? Or is it something more? Beel feels his heart thumping a little louder than usual and wonders if you can hear it the way he can hear the quick beats of yours. He’s not sure how acute human hearing is, but the soft way you’re touching him makes him feel like maybe you know how he feels right now. And for him, this _is_ _n’t_ just about loneliness. You make him feel safe, loved. Beel dips his head down, folding around you a fraction more. 

As your fingers travel further down Beel’s back to make longer caresses, your lips part to allow for the shallowness of your breath. Is it because he’s holding you so tight, or is your breathing off because you’re… nervous? Excited? Beel’s breathing seems deeper, in contrast with your shallowness, but the way his own hand on your back twitches against you, he, too, feels restless, as if he wants to grab onto something, to you.

Without weighing your decision and guided by the sleepy, warm feeling that makes your heart feel full and fluttery, you kiss Beel’s neck softly. He tastes salty, and you wonder whether it’s from his nightmare, or his tears, or both. The thought makes you press your lips to him again, as you long to provide the same comfort that his touch is giving you. You continue kissing his throat, softly, slowly, until you realize that you’re doing so without permission and that Beel seems to have gone perfectly still.

When you pause, Beel lets out a long breath over your head; he’s been holding it in while you kissed him. He suddenly feels so tense, and he shifts, pulling back to look at you. _Maybe it isn’t just loneliness_...

Beel’s cheeks are flushed pink, and he looks like he might say something, so you wait. But instead of speaking, Beel bends his head down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, airy kiss. Beel’s lips are so much softer than you would have thought—or maybe it’s the way he’s moving them against yours, like a caress. His kiss is unexpected, but not unwanted, and you find yourself kissing him back with equal care, trying not to push for too much, but feeling your heart swell with emotions you don’t know how to express. 

_Oh…_ If Beel thought holding you was nice, this is so much nicer. He’s not sure how to put into words how much it means to him, how much it’s _meant_ to him to have you by his side the last few nights, but maybe he can show you. Instead of pulling away to give you time to respond, as he had intended, Beel kisses you again, still light, but longer, hoping, _hoping_ you’ll understand. 

And you do. It’s in every sweet kiss, every shared breath as you and Beel explore your new feelings in the darkness. It’s impossible to pinpoint the moment when you begin to want more than a hug, more than a kiss, but as the two of you come together beneath the blankets, sharing your inexpressible emotions in touches and sighs, something changes between you. 

Beel is the first to feel the change. The way he’s holding you shifts, his hands pulling at you more urgently, his arms becoming more protective, possessive. A soft moan spills from you when he deepens his kisses, and the sound makes Beel bite down lightly on your bottom lip, a growl stuck in his throat. You squirm a little, embarrassed, but Beel doesn’t give you time to worry, chasing his kiss with another, firmer one that makes your pulse jump. 

You respond to Beel’s earnestness with your own boldness, moving your hand to the small of his back. You hold Beel’s hips flush against you as you taste each other more purposefully, your kisses slowly growing in force. When his tongue enters your mouth, you indulge in another moan, letting Beel know that it’s exactly what you want from him. Beel feels your approval like a flame igniting somewhere deep inside him, feels his body responding to the quiet sounds you’re making. His own hand at your back dips lower, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, seeking out your skin. 

You feel a rush of desire as Beel’s hand wanders your back beneath your night shirt. It feels so good to have him touch you, to have him so close. His arm pushes up your top the farther his hand travels up your back, until the fabric is caught on your chest, unable to go up any further. 

You pull away from Beel’s arms to sit up and slip your shirt off over your head. Beel watches, flushing red as his eyes drop to your bare breasts. You toss your shirt away and return to him quickly, nestling up against his chest and pressing your lips to his shoulder. _God_ , it feels so amazing, being skin-to-skin. 

“Is this okay?” You ask once more, somewhat breathless as Beel’s arms close around you again. 

“Yes,” Beel says huskily. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak as one of Beel’s hands works around to your front. He hesitates, and you take his wrist, pushing his palm against your breast. He looks at his hand cupped around you, cheeks hot, and then comes in for a kiss, pushing his mouth against yours hungrily while his hand gently squeezes the soft shape of your breast. 

You hum against his lips, feeling a tingling sensation settle between your legs as Beel touches you, kisses you. How long have you been wanting this? Was it when he told you about his bad dreams? When he held your hand for the first time? Or is it just this moment, as you realize how perfectly you fit in his arms, how comforting and thrilling his touch can be? You break from his kiss to plant one on his cheek, then his neck, moving until you reach his chest.

Beel’s hand on your breast moves to your ass, and he closes his eyes, heart racing, as you cover him in soft kisses. He feels the buds of your breasts push against him, the steadily growing heat of your body as you make subtle, sensual movements with your hips—it’s making him want more than just your kisses. Beel’s hand slips beneath the waistband of your shorts, cupping the curve of your ass as you move your mouth back up his neck, pressing wet kisses to his throat while his fingers knead at your muscles. Your kisses turn more eager in response, and your love bites start to sting while he fondles you, but Beel doesn’t mind. The sensation shivers down his spine, feeding that flame you’ve awoken inside him. 

“MC,” Beel whispers hoarsely, working your pajama shorts lower. “You feel so good.” He’s starting to feel himself strain against his sweatpants as you nip at him. 

You moan lightly against his throat, attention divided between the feeling of his skin under your lips and the way Beel’s hands keep creeping lower, pushing your shorts down with them. You _did_ say he can touch you, and now you hope he understands that your nod was more an invitation than permission, and that you _want_ him to touch you—everywhere. Another inch or two, and your ass is fully exposed. 

You gasp, feeling Beel’s hand grabbing at your bare ass, and then shudder as two of his long fingers dip between your thighs from behind, grazing your heat. 

“A- _ah!_ B-beel,” You moan against his chest as his fingers gently explore, gathering your arousal until his digits are slipping through your folds, making you ache. 

Beel groans, feeling just how slippery you are where he’s touching you. The scent of your arousal is strong, and you’re squirming against him like you want more, but what if he’s wrong? The demon slowly withdraws his fingers from between your legs. 

“W-wait! D-don’t stop…” You whisper, breath hot. “Please.”

Your words excite Beel. Encouraged, he grabs your shorts gathered under your ass and rips them off of your legs unapologetically. Slipping his hand back between your thighs from behind, Beel slowly slips against your entrance, dipping his fingertips shallowly inside you. You whimper softly into his chest at his careful ministrations, every small movement of his digits making you more desperate for a firmer touch. 

“B-beel,” You breathe. “C-can you please…?” Your request is garbled by the lightheadedness you’re experiencing as he teases you, gently slipping against your heat without offering much further. 

Beel hums in acknowledgement as he thrusts the two fingers inside you, knuckle-deep, making you cry out softly. You’re making those movements again that he likes, and those sounds… Beel sinks his fingers in and out of you, attentive to the way your body and breath respond to his efforts. Your hips pushing up against him provide some pleasurable pressure on his member, and he groans softly, thrusting his fingers particularly deep as he does so. 

“ _Oh!_ ” You gasp, feeling Beel’s hard length pressing firmly against your abdomen. You want to please him, too. Bringing your hand between your bodies, you run your palm up the length of him. Beel’s cock twitches against your hand, still confined by his pants, and you moan, applying more pressure. 

“I want to touch you,” You say, looking up at Beel, who’s breathing heavily, face red. 

Beel moves to grant your request, pushing his pants down around his hips and ass, low enough to expose his hard length completely. You feel the soft skin of him against a rather alarming portion of your stomach, and it makes your eyelids flutter. 

“Wow, Beel.” You whisper thickly, starting to gently stroke him. “Y-you’re so big.” 

The demon bites his lip at the feeling of your fist trying to fit around him as you carefully work his hard length. When you look back up to his eyes, you feel your heart leap at the hunger in them. “Don’t worry.” Beel whispers hotly. “I won’t hurt you.” 

Using his fingers again, Beel swipes between your thighs, which you part willingly, allowing him to collect your slickness. Eagerly, Beel wipes your wetness along the head of his cock, covering his length in your arousal. 

“Let me do it.” You beg, raising your head to kiss his lips softly. Beel nods, swallowing, and you reach between your own legs, almost embarrassed to feel how much of a mess you are. Your fingers glide against your heat smoothly, gathering up your wetness. You rub your arousal on Beel’s hard member, from end to tip, marveling at how thick he feels in your hand. 

Shifting in the bed, Beel removes your hand from himself and positions his hips squarely against yours, guiding your arms around his waist. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, so I won’t go in.” Beel says. “It’s something we should work up to.” Beel continues, and the way he says it makes your stomach flutter. _Work up to… does that mean…?_ If this isn’t your only night with Beel, you think, you can definitely trust him on this. 

“Okay, Beel.”

Guiding his hard length between your legs, Beel slowly pushes the lubricated head of his member between your closed thighs. It’s so good, so warm… Beel pushes deeper, grunting as your softness envelopes him. He isn’t in you, but he doesn’t have to be—it feels amazing just like this. 

“ _O-oh!_ ” You gasp out as Beel sinks his hard length between your thighs. It’s _good_. Your core thrums from the feeling of his member between your legs, sliding against your entrance. _Really_ good. Your hips try to jump as his girth causes him to rub up against your pleasure point, and you whimper. 

His hands on your ass hold you flush against him, but the small stutter of your hips still makes Beel moan. He starts rolling his hips, thrusting himself through your thighs slowly, easily, coating himself in your arousal as his shaft rubs up against your slit. He squeezes your ass tightly as he holds you in place, lost in the feeling of your heat and wetness slipping along his length. 

“ _F-fuck_ , Beel,” You moan, allowing yourself to be held stationary while Beel’s hips do the work. Every stroke coats his length in your slickness. You reach a hand behind yourself to feel him, your fingers wrapping lightly around the head of his cock as he thrusts through your thighs. Beel groans as your hand encloses his tip, even while he rubs up against your sensitive nub, eliciting another moan from you. 

“ _Ah_ -” You gasp as he thrusts between your legs, every stroke making you shudder. He’s just so _big_. “Beel, kiss me.” You look up into the demon’s flushed face. Beel obliges, pressing his mouth to yours again, licking at your tongue as he kisses you deeply, his kiss hungry and needy and so perfectly sloppy that you’re finding it hard to breathe. 

Beel tastes you recklessly, feeling dizzy from the way you say his name, here, now, while you’re tangled in each other. You’ve said his name before with friendliness, with concern, with affection, with reproach, with uncertainty, with fear, with happiness, with care, and now… Your voice is breathy, and low, and full of longing. _How many more ways can there be to say it?_ Beel wonders. He wants to hear them all. 

“B-beel!” You whimper, mind starting to go blank. 

_At least one more way_. Beel moans, thrusting up purposefully as your hand now pulls at his hip. 

“Oh, _f_ _uck_ , Beel,” You gasp as his next stroke puts the perfect pressure on your sensitive nub. You’re so close, body drenched in a tingling warmth. “Don’t stop, I’m g-going to cum, Beel, I’m- ” Your breath catches as you lose your ability to form sentences, and you can only whimper as the demon maintains his rhythm. 

“Me too,” Beel grunts, closing his eyes tight and pressing his lips to your forehead as a low growl rumbles through him. “ _Ah_ , MC,” Your thighs feel amazing, and he can feel you squeezing, as if to trap him between them. “I’m about to-” 

Beel thrusts through your thighs smoothly, and the friction sends you both overboard. You cry out, your mind washing blank, your body thrumming in pleasure. Beel moans low, almost a whimper, as he reaches his peak, his release spilling from between your legs. You feel him throbbing, and it drags on your own orgasm until you’re gasping, breathless, finally reaching your end. 

Beel’s chest heaves against you, his breath blowing your hair from your forehead forcefully. You hold him, catching your own breath as your heart rate slowly returns to a reasonable pace. Neither of you say anything, and neither of you move for several minutes. 

“MC? When you feel lonely, will you come to me first?” Beel finally asks, arms tightening around you. 

“I’d like that,” You echo his earlier words fondly. “But, um, I don’t want you to think… It doesn’t have to always be, you know, like this.” You explain a little self-consciously.

“But sometimes we can? Like this?” Beel asks quietly. 

“Beel… yes,” You slip your hand behind his neck and draw his face down to kiss him warmly. When you let up, Beel’s lips chase yours for a second more before letting you pull away. “That would make me really happy.”

“Me too.” Beel says, a smile blooming across his face. “Ah, sorry about the mess, though.” He says, blushing. “I’ll get it cleaned up.” 

“I’ll go find you some more snacks, then.” You offer, and Beel’s smile widens. 

“Thanks, MC.” Beel says, pressing his forehead to yours and nuzzling your faces together. He stops abruptly, looking concerned. “MC, your nose is cold again.” 

You grin, planting a small peck on the corner of his mouth. “Told you. It’s always cold.” 

Beel chuckles and kisses your nose softly before leaving your arms. 

After you clean yourself up, you manage to gather a few snacks stashed in the nooks and crannies of the kitchen. When you return, you find Beel changing the sheets. He looks so much calmer, so much more relaxed than he had earlier tonight, even while he’d been asleep. You set the food on the bedside table and take a corner of the clean fitted sheet that Beel’s wrestling with.

But as sweet as he is, Beel isn’t an angel, you think while tucking the corner of the sheet under the mattress. He’s been through too much, and hell has left it’s left its marks on him. Some of them are outward, physical, like his demon horns and his insect wings. Others are inside of him, where pieces of him have broken and keep breaking, resurfacing as nightmares, as fear of abandonment, as guilt. Even if you can comfort him, how likely is it that this demon will ever be saved? 

You glance up to catch Beel looking at you as he tucks in the last corner of the fresh bedsheet. He gives you a soft smile, and your chest tightens. No, Beel isn’t broken, you realize, suddenly ashamed that you’d even thought it. He doesn’t need to be fixed. Even if he has regrets, he is who he is because of what he’s been through. And that’s important because... Your heart skips a beat as it hits you. Because you love this angelic demon, dearly and truly—nightmares and all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been feeling down lately, so working on some WIPs instead of the Solomon/MC fic (sorrrrrrrrrry, it WILL HAPPEN, I PROMISE). 
> 
> I've also been feeling really insecure and iffy about posting new stuff, so I'm sorry there hasn't been anything recent. 
> 
> Anyway, expect more extra self-indulgent, feelsy one-shots soon, if I can be brave enough. <3


End file.
